


Too Late, Always Too Late

by WolfMeister



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel Dies, Dean-Centric, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), How Do I Tag, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9835619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfMeister/pseuds/WolfMeister
Summary: alternate ending of the episode that wrecked me where Castiel actually dies.Might add another chapter later.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hurt myself deep just by thinking about this.

It was too late. No one could figure it out, no one knew that it would bring Castiel back if they just broke Michael’s lance. And now he lays there, not moving, not breathing, the black goop dripping down his chin onto his chest.

Dean can’t breathe. He feels numb as he looks at the body of his dead best friend. Castiel’s last words resound through his head.

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

Dean collapses forward, tears streaming down his face, his choked screams muffled in Castiel’s blood-stained trench coat. Dean is vaguely aware of Sam’s hand resting on his shoulder and the sniffles from his mother.

“Cas…” Dean sobs.

_You’re my family. I love you._

Why didn’t Dean say anything back? Why were the words stuck in his throat? “Please, please don’t leave me.” He couldn’t do a damn thing. “I love you, Cas. Please come back to me. Do you hear me? I love you Castiel.” Dean grips the lifeless, bloodied hand.

He feels another hand begin to rub circles on his back, and he can tell it’s Mary’s, but Dean ignores the attempted comfort.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Dean knows he’s saying it to a lifeless body. He knows he’s saying it too late. Too late and overdue. “I’ve loved you for so damn long and I never told you, so you can’t be gone, I need you to hear it.” Dean doesn’t care if Sam and Mary hear his confessions, he doesn’t care that he’s rambling.

And then he starts praying, hands still clasped around his angel’s.

“Please, God, Chuck, bring him back. Amara, bring him back. Oh God, I can’t live without him, I can’t,” his voice breaks, choking on a sob, “I can’t, I c-can’t.” Dean moves his head, looking up at Castiel’s rotted face, the black goop still dripping, his eyes still open, blue eyes dull without the vibrant grace of the beautiful fallen angel.

_Knowing you, it’s been the best part of my life._

“Dean,” Sam murmurs softly, careful not to startle Dean. “We should go, give him a proper burial.” Dean shakes his head, using his sleeve to wipe away the black rot. “He isn’t…he’s not coming back this time, Dean.”

_I love you._

“No,” Dean shakes his head, kissing Castiel’s forehead. “No, he has to, because I-I c-can’t…” Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s, tears dripping down to mix with the drying sweat on the dead angel’s face.

“Dean,” Sam says, a bit more forceful this time. He knows that if they don’t leave, they might be caught by the police, and none of them are in the proper emotional condition to handle that at the moment.

Dean faces his younger brother, eyes red, tracks of tears down his cheeks. “I love him, Sammy!” Dean shouts, for once letting his emotions get the best of him. “I can’t just leave him here! I love him…” Dean turns back to Castiel, now cradling his face in his hands. “I won’t leave you Cas."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realize it's short but whatever

Dean wakes, bolting upright in bed, covered in sweat, tears running down his face as he screams for Castiel. The hunter looks down at his hands, blurred from the tears in his eyes. He thinks they’re red, he can see the angel’s blood covering them, spreading up his arms. He’s shaking, he might still be screaming. Dean bolts out of bed and runs to the bathroom. He turns on the sink and shoves his hands underneath the ice cold water.

“Get off, get off, get off,” he murmurs. Sam walks into the bathroom to see Dean ferociously rubbing his hands raw and muttering to himself as tears mix with the sink water. Sam lingers in the doorway, not quite sure what to do, how to help his big brother.

Dean stops washing his hands, gripping onto the sides of the sink. He looks up at himself in the mirror. Without another thought, Dean slams his fist into the glass. Pieces of the mirror fall, some become embedded into his knuckles, the rest cracks, leaving spiderwebs of black traveling across the glass. Sam immediately rushes forward, holding Dean’s arms back while simultaneously engulfing his brother in a hug.

“Dean, Dean, it’s okay, you’re going to be fine,” Sam hears his voice cracking. He feels his resolve cracking. Just like the mirror. Dean doubles over, sitting down on the bathroom floor, forcing Sam to follow suit. Sam feels Dean’s body shaking against his and realizes that he’s never seen his brother lose it like this. And he doesn’t know what he could possibly do to make the situation more bearable.


End file.
